


Love In the Time of Big-Ass Robots

by Meicdon13



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mecha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meicdon13/pseuds/Meicdon13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The government decides to hold a contest to see which mecha company gets to provide them with suits. Homura Toushin is the first pilot to use a Shadow mecha. Genjo Sanzo is a pilot who prefers the more traditional ways of piloting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In the Time of Big-Ass Robots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Despina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Despina/gifts).



> Prompt was, "Homura/Sanzo: Test pilots for competing companies trying to land a fat government contract. They can be for jet planes (any timeframe) or if you want, future and Mechs!! Competitive UST off the charts would result in my undying gratitude," from despina_moon for 7thnight_smut 2013.

This whole contest thing was a ridiculous way to decide whose company would land the government contract, but he’d been prompted to accept the proposal once his father had expressed his own interest and willingness for it. When it came down to it, Koumyou was the owner and founder of Temple Technology while Genjo was just a mecha pilot (by his own choosing, yes, but still just a pilot). And it was rare that the government decided to entertain new bidders for the bi-annually-renewed mecha contract.

The hangar was ridiculously huge, even by mecha standards. Suits of all sizes and kinds were scattered throughout it, and the sounds of people working and talking echoed around the large space. Genjo concentrated on tightening the inner circuitry of his mecha and ignored everyone else around him.

Suit maintenance was work that Genjo typically avoided at all costs, preferring to pilot the suits rather than tinker with them, but his team was still stuck back at the main building enduring security checks with the other personnel. Plus it was a good way to keep people from trying to start up conversations with him; it took a lot of concentration to do a complete suit check-up, especially if you were doing it alone.

“Genjo-chan! There you are!”

Unfortunately, the strategy didn’t work whenever it came to Nii. A lot of things that Genjo did to keep himself sane seemed to fail spectacularly around the man. And by some sort of twisted karma, Nii was one of his father’s closest friends; Genjo had had to endure his presence since he was a child.

Genjo simply grunted in acknowledgment, keeping his mouth firmly closed around the end of the flashlight he was using. Satisfied with the circuit connections, he started testing the leg’s interface software. He could feel Nii’s oily presence somewhere to his right, and he was hoping that if he ignored the man long enough, he’d get bored and leave him alone. Normal people found it hard to hold conversations with people who were half-inside mechas.

But, of course, it was too much to hope for that any friend of father’s would be normal. Genjo felt a hand grab the back of his coveralls and yank. He narrowly avoided banging his head against the armor of his suit. He pulled himself free from Nii’s hold and glared at the older man. He practically spat the flashlight into his hand. “What the hell was that for?”

Nii tut-tutted at him. “Why, Genjo-chan. Even you should know how rude it is to just ignore someone who’s talking to you. Surely Koumyou taught you better than that.” Genjo resisted the urge to shove the flashlight up Nii’s nose. “And speaking of Koumyou, how’s your father?”

Genjo bristled at the question. “He’s been busy. Developing new prototype armor.” He’d never liked Nii and he liked it even less that the man was on such familiar terms with Koumyou. It rubbed him the wrong way, and he’d always gone out of his way to make sure that they spent as little time together as possible. It drove Genjo mad that Koumyou found his reaction to Nii so amusing.

“Too busy even for drinks between old friends?” Nii pouted.

Genjo didn’t even bother to answer.

“And here I was looking forward to catching up with you, Genjo-chan. But you’re still as cold as always.” Nii sighed dramatically and stuck his hands inside his pockets. His eyes drifted over towards Genjo’s mecha, and his gaze suddenly sharpened. “Is this the new suit that you’re going to be using for the contest?”

Genjo quickly stepped in between the suit and Nii. “No one else aside from Temple employees are allowed near the suit. Father’s orders.”

“Ah, well. I’ll see it in action soon enough. I’m on the scoring committee.” Nii smirked at him. “Well, I’ll see you around. Try not to get into too much trouble before the contest starts.”

Genjo watched Nii saunter off. There was something about him that was especially irritating today, though Genjo couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He bent down to grab his duffel bag. There really wasn’t anything else left to tune up with his suit; might as well spend the rest of the afternoon in the dorms.

He flipped open his phone as he walked, snorting when he saw Goku’s rant-filled message about the government’s ‘super inveysiv’ security measures. He sent a reply, correcting Goku’s spelling and calling him an idiot for good measure.

The dorms were actually small cabins that could house up to four people at a time. They were situated in a large grassy area to the right of the actual contest grounds. The mecha garages for maintenance and storage were on the left of the grounds. Genjo climbed onto one of the two-man motorized carts that passed for transportation around the grounds, throwing his bag onto the seat beside him and starting it up with the all-purpose ID card that he’d been given.

He found Dorm F easily enough and parked the cart behind it. He opened the door with his card. Another pilot was already inside the cabin, unpacking his own bag and putting away his clothes in one of the small dressers beside one of the beds. He paused and looked up when Genjo opened the door. He stepped forward, hand extended, and smiled. “Hello. I’m Homura Toushin from Dragon Enterprises.”

Genjo didn’t take the offered hand. The smile on Toushin’s face seemed forced, and it didn’t really reach his eyes. “Dragon Enterprises? Aren’t you the ones with the ridiculous Shadow program?” He wasn’t here to make friends with anyone, and he was determined to be extra careful about talking to anyone. They were competing for a government contract; he was pretty sure some of these people wouldn’t hesitate to break one of his arms if they thought they could get away with it.

The blandly friendly look on Toushin’s face changed to a closed off and wary one in an instant. He lowered his arm. “Yes, I’m a Shadow pilot. I’m sure you know that we’re the leading company in piloting innovations.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re from?”

Genjo raised an eyebrow as well. This version of Toushin at least seemed more honest than the one that had greeted him. “Temple Technology. The number one company in mecha armor development,” he said, voice as flat and cold as Toushin’s. He shouldered past him and dumped his duffel onto the bed farthest from the other pilot.

He spent some time debating if he should unpack his things or go out and explore the contest grounds. Genjo was in the middle of replying to Goku’s newest message—Gojyo had, unsurprisingly gotten into a fight with one of the guards—when a smooth electronic voice issued from the small speaker hovering in one corner of the room.

“All pilots please assemble at the garage for a quick briefing.”

Genjo sighed in frustration.

* * *

The weekend open-air market was the only place that Homura had any decent chance of finding food. And even then, he was lucky if he managed to make off with a single piece of fruit. Sure, there were plenty of those soup kitchen places around town where they gave people like him hot meals and something to drink, but even those places kicked him out once they saw his mismatched eyes.

Homura waited until he was sure that the vendor wasn’t looking before he moved. He grabbed two loaves of bread and ran, ignoring the angry shouts that followed him down the street. He knew it wouldn’t take long before the police were alerted, and he needed to find somewhere to hide and enjoy his food before they found him.

The streets of the market district changed to the streets of the industrial sector, the buildings transitioning into large cement blocks. He was in the old warehouse area, and there were plenty of abandoned buildings that he could hide in.

When the police did find him, he’d barely managed to swallow his first huge bite. They kicked open the rusty old door to the small tool shed and dragged him out. What really got to Homura, though, was that the bread that he’d stolen, the bread that was supposed to tide him over until he managed to get his hands on some food again, was unceremoniously dropped to the ground and trampled under heavy police boots.

“You again!” one of the policemen snarled. “Well, this time, you’re not getting away!”

Homura kept silent, glaring at them as they formed a circle around him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been beaten up, and it wasn’t going to be the last one either. And every time it happened, he always found himself hitting back. Something inside him always balked at the thought of just standing there and taking it, even if he always ended up with worse injuries for his troubles. The fact that his attackers would at least be sporting some large bruises was something he took comfort in.

Right now was no different from any other time. He managed to steal the nightstick of the first officer who swung at him and used it to knock the man to the ground. It wasn’t much, but it was more than what he usually had on him whenever he was in a tight spot, and it wasn’t long before more than one officer had a cracked or shattered visor.

Someone landed a kick on the back of Homura’s leg and he fell flat on his face. Almost immediately, more kicks landed on his back and sides. He curled up into a ball as best as he could, ignoring the sharp pain that was probably from a cracked or bruised rib. As quickly as they started, the blows stopped.

“Who are you? And how dare you interfere with a police investigation!”

“Police investigation? I thought that I was saving someone from an unfair fight.”

Homura slowly uncurled and looked up, curious about his rescuer.

He was surprised to see a teenager around his age. He was wearing slacks and a button-down shirt, his hair pulled back into a bun and his eyes seemingly closed. “Either way, Mr. Jade would prefer that this sort of thing not happen on his property. It’s bad for business, you see.”

At the mention of Jade’s name, even the stupidest-looking policeman in the group blanched. The leader of the group stepped forward. “Our most sincere apologies. We’ll leave right now.” One of the officers grabbed Homura’s arm and pulled him up roughly. He bit back the pained cry that threatened to escape him and tried to kick the policeman’s shin. He was backhanded across the face in return.

Homura couldn’t be sure that the other teen was looking at him (his eyes were still closed) but he’d turned so that he was facing Homura’s direction. “You can leave him here.”

“But—”

The teen opened his eyes just a little bit, though they were still mere slits. The effect was actually quite intimidating. “Mr. Jade has his own ways of dealing with trespassers.”

Homura got more than one disgruntled look as the policemen left. He resisted the urge to give them the finger, and instead warily eyed the teenager beside him. He’d closed his eyes again, but Homura didn’t doubt that he was aware of what exactly Homura was doing. “Do you have a name?”

He thought about lying then decided against it. “Homura.”

“Hello, Homura. I’m Shien. If you’ll follow me, I think I have a job that you might be interested in.” Homura was immediately on the defensive. Shien frowned a bit. “It’s not _that_ kind of job, if you must know. Dragon Enterprises is into many industries, but prostitution isn’t one of them.”

Dragon Enterprises had businesses everywhere, and lately, there’d been rumors that they were thinking of expanding into robotics and mechas. Homura was smart enough to guess that Mr. Jade was someone high up in the Dragon hierarchy, if not the top guy.

Part of him wanted to run away from Shien, but a larger part wanted to follow him. Running away meant living on the streets again, stealing food and money. Following Shien meant the hope for an actual job, maybe enough money that he would be able to buy two or three meals a day.

“Lead the way.”

* * *

Homura waited with the other pilots in the mech garage. Sanzo stood a couple of feet away, ignoring everyone and glaring at the wall. It seemed like all the man ever did was be abrasive towards everyone else. He wasn’t sure if that fact amused him or annoyed him.

After the first failed attempt at establishing a civil acquaintance with Sanzo, Homura had pretty much just ignored him. They spent most of the afternoon in complete silence, the air tense between them. On his part, Homura was still more than a bit put off by the way that Sanzo had dismissed his piloting style.

When an announcement had been made, asking the pilots to reassemble in the mech garage, Sanzo had left the room even before Homura had the chance to finish pulling on his boots. It wasn’t that he’d hoped to become best friends with whoever he would end up sharing a dorm with, but the added tension was definitely something that Homura could have done without. And to top it all off, the periodic headaches he usually suffered were getting worse.

Homura was dragged out of his thoughts by Nii clearing his throat. “Good afternoon everyone! For those of you who don’t know, I’m Dr. Nii, and I’m one of the organizers of this little event.” He paused before continuing. “Allow me to introduce Dr. Hwang. She’ll be giving you the details about the competition.”

A tall woman stepped forward, ignoring Nii’s slightly lecherous smile. She narrowed her eyes at two pilots near the back of the group who were whispering to one another. It didn’t take long before they grew quiet.

“Everyone please pay attention,” she said. “There are four categories in this competition; strength, agility, weaponry, and durability. The strength test will be tomorrow, after lunch, at the grounds proper. All pilots are expected to be there before two p.m.” Her cool gaze swept across the pilots. “Class 1 suits will go first, followed by Class 2, and so on.” She paused. “Any questions?” No one moved.

Nii stepped forward again. “That’s all for today. Good tomorrow! And may the best pilot win!”

People began to disperse after that. Homura debated whether or not to just return to the dorms until it was time for dinner. He was surprised when he felt a hand clap his shoulder roughly. “There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Homura smiled at Zenon and Shien. “Nice of you to finally join me.”

Zenon scowled. “They went overboard with those security checks! I don’t think my ass’ll be the same for weeks.”

Shien tilted his head. “You’re just angry that they confiscated your cigarettes and told you to buy a new pack from the onsite convenience store.”

“What the hell could you smuggle in a cigarette?”

Shien ignored him and turned to Homura. “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

“Not really. I’m sure that Rinrei can handle anything they come up with,” Homura shrugged. “I just need the two of you to make sure everything’s in good condition. I already went over her earlier, but you might spot something I missed.”

“Leave it to us,” Zenon crowed. “Where’d you stash her?”

Shien sighed. “I will never understand why you insist on calling an inanimate object a female.”

They made their way to where Homura had placed Rinrei, Shien and Zenon updating him about what had happened while they were separated. As Homura’s pilot support team, they usually went wherever he did when he needed to use the suit. They’d become fast friends after spending so much time with one another, that just being with them again allowed Homura to relax just a bit more and worry less about the competition.

* * *

“Genjo! Over here!” Goku yelled.

Genjo quickly made his way over to where Goku, Hakkai, and Gojyo were standing beside Jeep. Hakkai, of course, was already running diagnostics on the mecha. Gojyo was in the middle of setting out some tools beside Jeep’s leg.

Goku immediately grabbed Genjo’s arm and yanked him towards the back panel that Hakkai was working on. “Hurry up! I wanna show you something!”

“Calm down, brat,” Genjo snapped. He let himself be pulled along anyway. “And what are you doing?” he asked Hakkai. “I already did maintenance.”

Hakkai smiled at him. “I noticed. But Mr. Sanzo gave us these new power cells for Jeep. They should give you a twenty percent increase in output.”

Despite himself, Genjo was intrigued. “Really?” Koumyou had been working on those for quite some time, and Genjo had been looking forward to trying them out.

“Increased output in the weapons system, specifically.” Hakkai’s amusement was clear on his face.

Gojyo snorted. “We all know how you like blowing shit up, your highness.”

“How about I test it right now and then blow _you_ up, cockroach?”

Goku laughed. “I thought you couldn’t kill cockroaches that easily.”

Gojyo and Goku bickered the entire time while they upgraded and tested Jeep’s systems. Genjo yelled at them to shut up from time to time, and Hakkai busied himself with making sure that Jeep operated smoothly. It wasn’t any different from any time that they all gathered together, and Genjo was surprised when he heard the announcement for dinner.

“Food will be served in the canteen,” the electronic voice said. Genjo couldn’t tell if it was male or female. “Please present your ID card at the counter to claim your meal.”

They immediately fell in line once they entered the canteen. Genjo looked around the large building as they waited. His eyes narrowed in on a table not too far away, brows furrowing when he recognized someone sitting there. “Is that Xian? What’s he doing here?”

“I forgot to tell you,” Hakkai said, frowning. “They apparently asked for representatives for each company’s corporate operations. They’re going to start early with contract drafts and negotiations so that everything will go smoother once they’ve chosen winners.”

“We had to sit beside him near the flight!” Goku complained. “I wish you’d punched him, Gojyo.”

“I can’t pick a fight in an airplane, monkey. There’s no room.”

Genjo watched as Xian said something to a woman sitting beside him, making her laugh. The smug, oily smile on his face made Genjo want to punch him. Xian was definitely better suited to the corporate side of things. At the very least, he didn’t have to look at his irritating mug in the suit bay anymore.

They had to pass by Xian’s table in search of a place to sit. Genjo tried to ignore him, but he couldn’t help gritting his teeth when Xian spoke, his voice just a little too loud to seem casual. “I admit that it took some time to get where I am, but I’m happy to say that I’ve worked hard for my position.”

Gojyo had to grab Goku’s arm and drag him away. Hakkai glanced at Genjo out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t anything that Genjo hadn’t heard before, but it still made him want to dump his bowl of soup over Xian’s head.

Thankfully, the rest of dinner was uneventful, mostly because Goku and Gojyo were too busy eating to fight with one another; they’d been kept in line for security checks even through lunch. When it was time for Genjo to drive back to his dorm, Goku had insisted that they all go with him.

“Good night!” Goku shouted, waving from where he was perched beside Hakkai. Gojyo sat in a separate cart, all of their bags piled beside him.

“Keep it down, monkey,” Genjo said irritably. He gave a half-hearted wave as they drove off, intent on relaxing a bit before he finally went to bed. He was in the middle of reading a book when Toushin arrived. They ignored one another, and Toushin headed straight to the bathroom. Genjo only looked up from his book when he heard the sounds of heavy furniture being moved.

Toushin had changed into his pilot suit. Genjo watched as he finished shoving the two unoccupied beds to one side. Then he moved to middle of the newly cleared up space and began doing what looked like warm-up exercises. Genjo barely managed to suppress a snort.

Dragon Enterprises had developed a new software interface that allowed the mecha to copy their pilot’s moves. They’d dubbed the program Shadow and had just recently begun training pilots to use it. It had made waves in the media once the first press release was out, and the mecha community was divided on whether or it was a step forward in technology or an unnecessary gimmick. Genjo belonged to the latter group.

You had to either train a martial artist to become a pilot, or get your pilot to become a martial artist. It was a huge hassle and doubly time-consuming. If you wanted a Shadow mecha to reach its full potential, you couldn’t just pick some random pilot who thought he knew how to throw a punch.

Genjo idly wondered what Toushin had started out as, pilot or fighter, and then forced himself to go back to reading his book when he realized his mind had wandered to the contemplation of Toushin’s well-defined muscles straining against the material of his pilot suit.

“Do you want me to teach you how to pilot my mecha?”

Genjo looked up from his book, glaring at the smirk on Toushin’s face. “Why the fuck would I want you to do that?”

Toushin shrugged. “I don’t know. You kept glancing at me, so I thought you wanted me to teach you.”

“Shadow piloting places ridiculous burden on finding the right pilot for a mecha, when the suit should be easily usable by more than one trained pilot,” Genjo said, deadpan. “So, no. I don’t want to learn how to pilot a suit that would be completely useless unless I were in it.”

“There are people who believe that the benefits more than cover the resources put into pilot selection and training.”

“Obviously I’m not one of them,” Genjo snapped.

“Obviously,” Toushin agreed. He went back to his exercises, moving through each pose in the small space that he’d made by pushing the two unoccupied beds into one corner of the dorm. Genjo had finished reading half a page when Toushin spoke again. “There are also some people who are afraid of advancements and would very much prefer to stick to the old ways.” The way he said, ‘old,’ it might as well have been ‘obsolete.’

“There’s nothing wrong with developing new ways of doing things. As long as they’re not just flashy schemes to rake in more money. Dragon Enterprises was on the verge of bankruptcy before they turned out Shadow. It was on the market so fast, I doubt they had the time to go through the proper testing and protocol.”

Toushin laughed. “You have no idea how right you are.”

Genjo looked at him warily. He had expected Toushin to be insulted, irritated at the very least. Toushin didn’t say anything else, going back to his exercises. Genjo went back to reading. If the other pilot didn’t want to elaborate, Genjo wasn’t going to ask him to.

* * *

Homura sat up in bed quickly, barely avoiding hitting his head against Shien’s. His eyes were wide, heart thundering in his chest, as he panted. Shien stayed quiet, leaning back in his seat and watching him.

When Homura finally calmed down, Shien spoke. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Horrible.” Homura knew that it would be pointless to lie to Shien. “Much worse than before,” he added.

Shien frowned. “I’ve told you that you don’t need to do this.”

Homura looked at him, taking care to make sure that his expression remained neutral. “And I’ve told you that I disagreed with you.” His fist clenched in the sheet that covered his legs. “This is the only way that I can …” he trailed off, not sure how to put in words what he was feeling.

Shien sighed. “To some extent, I suppose you do owe Mr. Jade. And all the work you’ve done and all your achievements are quite admirable. But please take into consideration the fact that you’re still very much human and that you have your own limits as well. If not for yourself, then for your suit.” _Which I know you’re very fond of_ , his expression seemed to say.

“How long was I out?” Homura asked softly, almost afraid to hear the answer. The developers had been pushing the tests with Shadow to go faster, trying to finish before the deadline that Mr. Jade had given. Homura never complained; he knew how important Shadow was, and whenever he had to go to the infirmary, it always ate up precious time.

“Almost three days.”

Homura winced and braced himself for the imminent scolding. When Shien didn’t say anything, he risked a glance at him. Shien sat on a chair beside Homura’s bed, hands folded on his lap. He returned Homura’s gaze, eyes opening slightly. He only did that when he was being extremely serious or when he was trying to scare somebody. Homura had the feeling that it might be both right now.

“Out of all of the test pilots, you’ve shown the most aptitude for Shadow. But there are things that you should know that you haven’t been told yet.” Shien paused, looking like he was carefully choosing his next words. “Shadow is incomplete. Safety measures haven’t been coded into it yet. You’re at risk of permanently damaging important neural pathways if you insist on using it as extensively as they want you to.” His voice dropped in volume even as it increased in intensity. “You have the right to know.”

He stood up to leave, not waiting for a response.

* * *

“Looks like one of the guys has dropped out.”

Homura turned to look where Zenon was pointing. One of the areas marked off for a Class 3 suit was conspicuously empty. The mech team was milling around, looking agitated, but there was no sign of the pilot. “That doesn’t really make much of a difference,” Homura noted. “We’re a Class 5. They’re getting a suit for each Class.”

Homura stood under the shade that Rinrei provided, waiting for the first part of the contest to start. Zenon and Shien were crowded in beside him as well, the former grumbling about the heat. “They should’ve done this in the morning, when the sun ain’t so high,” he groused. Homura nodded in silent agreement. The heat coming off of the tarmac was making a dull throb start at the base of his skull.

“Strange,” Shien murmured. “Dr. Hwang seemed like a punctual sort of woman. And yet it’s almost half past two.”

Zenon shrugged. “Guess you were wrong about her.”

Shien shrugged, but didn’t say anything else. They spent the next couple of minutes in silence. Around them, the other pilots and their teams waited in various states of impatience. Homura could see Genjo nearby, threatening to strangle a younger man with brown hair if he didn’t stop whining. They stood with two other men beside what looked like a Class 2 mecha.

The suit was almost completely white, the only exception being the ruby red cockpit that took up most of the mecha’s head and torso. The overall shape was the standard humanoid, but the head—where the pilot’s own torso would be—was slightly reptilian in shape. It wasn’t as heavily armored as some of the other suits in the same class. Homura wondered if they’d decided to sacrifice shielding in the name of speed and maneuverability.

“There’s Dr. Hwang,” Shien suddenly said, turning to look at the approaching woman. The low background sound of conversation became louder as people took in the grim expression on Dr. Hwang’s face. She parked her cart nearby and quickly marched over to where the pilots where gathered. Once again, she waited until everyone quieted down before she spoke. She turned on the small microphone on the lapel of her lab coat, and her voice boomed across the field.

“One of the pilots has been attacked and injured.” Dr. Hwang glared at the group, as if willing the one responsible to come forward and confess. “The contest will go on. But rest assured, once the perpetrators have been identified, they will be arrested and prosecuted under national security protocol. Needless to say, they will also be immediately disqualified, and their company placed under investigation.”

* * *

Goku immediately shut his mouth at the news. Hakkai and Gojyo looked grim. Genjo saw them glancing at him, worry obvious on their faces. He kept quiet and focused on Dr. Hwang instead. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

“Class 2 suits get ready! You’re on in five minutes,” Dr. Hwang said. “All other Classes, move to the waiting area.”

“Let’s go,” Genjo said, making his way towards Jeep.

“Genjo …”

“Not now, monkey,” Genjo snapped. He climbed into Jeep’s cockpit and yanked down the clear visor. Goku’s face was slightly distorted as he tilted his head back to look at him. “I’ll be fine,” Genjo said. “No one’s going to attack me while I’m in a suit.”

“What if they’ve got a bigger Class?” Goku asked, wringing his hands.

Gojyo placed a hand on Goku’s shoulder. “No one’s going to try anything with everyone here, idiot.”

“They’re right, Goku,” Hakkai said. He did one final check of Jeep’s new power cells and gave Genjo a thumbs-up. “Everything’s good to go.”

Genjo closed the cockpit. The holographic display immediately came online. Genjo looked at the power readings and made a mental note to tell Hakkai and Koumyou that the power cells actually increased output by almost forty percent instead of the predicted twenty. He took hold of the controls and felt the familiar movements as Jeep stood up.

“Good luck!” Goku shouted.

Genjo made his way to where the other Class 2 suits were positioned and fell in line. He blinked in surprise at the sound of multiple helicarriers approaching. He directed his optical sensors upward and saw a large fleet of them arriving to hover above the contest area. A military van drove up beside the Class 2 suits, Nii and Hwang exiting it once it came to a stop.

“We want to know which suit is the strongest,” Nii said, his voice enhanced like Hwang’s. “But we also want to make sure that the suits can function in real-life situations. So for the strength test, each pilot needs to clear a designated area of as much debris as they can in one go.” He grinned. “Imagine you’re in a battlefield, boys and girls, and lift as much deadweight as you can.”

One of the helicarriers slowly maneuvered closer and opened its cargo doors. Soldiers facilitated as it lowered its cargo to the ground; the remains of multiple mechas and various military vehicles. They were in various states of rusted decay, though Genjo saw a few that seemed relatively new (aside from the fact that they had burn marks on the metal).

The first suit was on the big side for a Class 2—just a little over six meters tall—and was built along heavier lines than the other suits. It moved slowly; Genjo would have no trouble beating it in the agility category. He had to admire, though, how much weight it could carry. If he wasn’t mistaken, the hunk of metal in its arms was most of an armored car. It placed the car in its designated area and then walked back to its place in the line. All the weighing would be done later in secret. The results for individual categories wouldn’t be announced, and the pilots would only be made aware of the final tally.

Goku’s voice came across the audio feed. “Ha! Jeep can do way better.”

Normally Jeep couldn’t, but with the new power cells Koumyou sent, Genjo thought it could. When it was his turn, he eyed what looked like the entire arm of a Class 3 suit. Jeep’s scanners estimated that it would be able to lift it without damage. Anything more would be too much. It didn’t look like much, but mecha parts were usually heavier than they looked because of the internal circuitry and armor.

Genjo kept an eye on the readings displayed in front of him as he lifted the arm, moving slowly as he straightened Jeep up from a crouch. He didn’t want to shock the system by standing up too quickly, and he might end up falling over if he did. He marched to his deposit spot and put down the arm, carefully moving Jeep’s controls.

He was pretty sure he had this category in the bag. Some of the other suits might be able to carry more, but for his size and specs, he’d performed above average. Now he just needed to prepare for the other events.

* * *

Genjo watched as his dad carefully pulled a panel away to reveal the inner circuitry of the mecha’s arm. He made sure that he was absolutely quiet; Koumyou had only agreed to let him watch if he promised to behave.

The mecha was old, maybe even as old as his dad. Koumyou had seen it in the alley beside an electronics store, haphazardly disassembled and stuffed into boxes. He’d taken it home (without asking the store owner if it really was trash, to Genjo’s horror) and decided that he wanted to fix it up and see if he could make it work.

So right now they were sitting in their dusty garage, Genjo perched on the table itself because he was still too small to see anything even when he sat on a high stool. He handed Koumyou a screwdriver, happy that his dad trusted him enough to let him handle tools (except the really sharp ones and the heavy ones).

One of the mecha’s arms was on the table in front of Koumyou, the rest of it scattered around them. Once each part was fixed, Koumyou planned on assembling it outside. Before they started fixing the mecha, Genjo had made him promise that he wouldn’t put it together until Genjo got home from school.

“Do you want to ride the mecha when it’s done?” Koumyou asked, breaking the relative silence of the garage.

Because his dad had spoken first and had asked a question, Genjo knew that it was okay for him to talk. “Sounds scary,” he said simply. It also sounded really awesome, but if Koumyou decided that Genjo was too small for it, he’d rather not get his hopes up.

Koumyou paused in the middle of screwing something in place and smiled gently at Genjo. “It looks like it’s going to be a big suit when it’s done. If you’re scared, maybe the two of us can ride it at the same time.”

Genjo tried his best not to look too excited, but he knew he’d failed when Koumyou’s smile grew a bit bigger and he reached out to ruffle his hair. “Is it really okay?”

“Really, really. I’ll even let you pilot it. But only if you promise to eat all your vegetables without complaining.”

Genjo made a face even though he knew it was only a joke; Koumyou had never had any problems getting him to behave. If anything, it was Koumyou who got into more trouble with his absent-mindedness and his fondness for bending the rules. “I always eat my veggies.”

“I know,” Koumyou said, still smiling. “You’re such a good boy.”

They fell quiet again. Genjo’s mind began to drift as he watched his dad’s hands work; he thought about piloting the mecha, wondered if it could fly or if it had any cool weapons that he could use. He was pretty sure that he’d just find fixing it up boring, would probably never be content with just that.

Even if they fixed the mecha, he’d probably never be able to bring it to school, but it was nice to think about it still. No one would ever make fun of him again for not having a mom and everyone would leave him alone when he didn’t want to talk (which was most of the time) and he’d never be forced to work in groups with classmates that were too stupid to realize that they were stupid.

Time drifted by in the peaceful dusty haze in the garage, and Genjo found himself becoming even more excited for when the mecha was completely put together.

* * *

The thing about larger suit Classes, was that nobody expected them to be fast. In general, people assumed that the smaller the mecha, the faster it was. And that was mostly true, until Dragon Enterprises came along with Shadow. For a Shadow pilot to do be able to do his best, he needed enough room to move around in. A smaller suit would be useless.

Rinrei, Homura’s mecha, was a Class 5. Exactly fifteen meters tall, she was a dark blue that bordered on black. Her armor was lightweight but extensive, concentrated mostly at her torso and head. The cockpit was in her chest; an empty area completely covered with motion scanners.

Dragon Enterprises’ R&D team had managed to decrease the lag time between pilot action and mecha response to zero, and Rinrei mirrored Homura’s moves flawlessly. He wasn’t worried at all about the agility contests that afternoon. His performance for the strength test was pretty standard for a Class 5, but he was sure that he would blow the competition away during the agility round.

He eyed the other pilots and teams scattered around the grounds. He doubted that anyone in his Class would be able to perform at the same level as Rinrei. Some of the military personnel present to watch the contest were eyeing him and his team with undisguised interest. Homura was the first pilot out of the Shadow program and this contest was actually the first time that the public had the chance to see what a Shadow pilot could do.

“This is going to be too easy!”

“For once, I have to agree with Zenon’s overconfident ranting.”

They stood on the platform of the mech loader. Rinrei’s cockpit was open and Homura was already standing inside. He was looking forward to today’s round; it had been some time since he’d been able to put Rinrei through her paces, and he was looking forward to showing the judges just what Shadow was capable of.

For this round, they needed to avoid getting hit by projectiles that had been modified to detonate in an explosion of paint once they made contact. They weren’t allowed to destroy the projectiles before impact, just dodge them. It was going to be a walk in the park for him, Homura thought, smirking.

“Well, I’d better get ready. It’s almost my turn.” Homura waved at Shien and Zenon before he shut the cockpit. Immediately, the entire cockpit was bathed in blue light. Homura closed his eyes for a moment and when he re-opened them, he saw out of Rinrei’s own eyes. It always took him a moment to get used to suddenly being fifteen meters tall.

When it was his turn for the challenge, he stepped into the marked off target area. He had to stay inside the square for the entire thing. On the other side of the field, soldiers were setting up large cannons and loading the paint missiles.

Homura took a deep breath and released the tension from his body. When the first missile came flying towards him, he waited until the last moment, and simply took one step to the left. For the next two missiles, he twisted away lithely, moving close towards the edge of the marked-off area, but never stepping outside the boundaries. He moved smoothly, as if he were going through his exercises, exerting just enough effort to avoid being hit, but not doing anything unnecessarily flashy. The point was to showcase how a Shadow mecha had the advantage over more traditional ones in terms of agility.

Whenever he was inside Rinrei, it never felt like he was piloting a suit. He _became_ Rinrei, moving the suit as if it were his own body. Over time, he’d learned to ignore the strange dissonance he felt during the first few minutes whenever he interfaced with the program, and all that was left was getting used to a sudden height boost and slight disorientation whenever he joined with the interface. Once he was used to Shadow, controlling the mecha was almost ridiculously easy.

Pretty soon, the soldiers had run out of missiles, and Homura wasn’t even sweating, his body thrumming with adrenaline and energy. He smiled smugly. He was definitely going to get top marks for this.

* * *

Genjo was still pissed off about yesterday’s stupid paint missile test. The very last missile hadn’t hit him directly, but Nii had gloated about the fact that there was a “teensy tiny” splash of bright orange paint on one of Jeep’s feet from where a missile had hit the ground. “If that had been an actual payload missile, you’d have shrapnel in your foot right now, Genjo-chan.” Not for the first time, Genjo had questioned the company that his father kept.

But this round was right up his alley. Blowing stuff up was Genjo’s strength. It didn’t matter if he used the mounted guns on Jeep’s arms, or the flamethrowers, or the energy beams; if it was a target, he’d hit it.

He stood in the middle of the same marked-off area as yesterday, eyes narrowed as he watched the soldiers get ready. The first set of targets was made up of stationary wooden cutouts of varying sizes. They were set to pop up randomly along a straight line. Genjo thought they were supposed to look like mechas.

Before the first target had fully straightened up, there was already a large hole in the middle of the head. Two more targets appeared on opposite ends of the line; he took them out at the same time with a bullet and an energy beam.

Genjo was in his element. The moving targets were a bit trickier but much more challenging. The aim was to stop them before they got within ten meters of him. Not a single one even got close to the ten meter mark. He let go of all of the tension and frustration he’d had to endure during the contest, channeling it into annihilating the targets.

He got rid of the last one with a well-aimed, concentrated stream of fire. Genjo lowered Jeep’s arm and sighed. It was a strange way to unwind, but it was pretty effective.

* * *

“I heard he only passed the Pilot Certification Boards because his dad is head of Temple Tech.”

Genjo stopped in his tracks and slowly moved so that his back was pressed the wall. He stood at the junction between two hallways, and whoever was spouting the bullshit he’d heard was standing just around the corner. Normally, he’d deck anyone who’d dare to say something so stupid, but he was more careful nowadays. The last time it had happened, Koumyou had gotten in trouble with the company board members.

“Really?” Another voice asked. “I’ve seen him in the testing fields. He seems like he deserves to be in the top ten of the Boards. The way he managed to destroy all those targets using the least amount of ammo—”

“Ha! He just got lucky.” Genjo could practically hear the sneer in the first voice. “I mean, it’d be really embarrassing if the son of the owner of Temple Tech couldn’t pass the Boards, so obviously they’d rig it somehow.”

“I dunno. That doesn’t really sound right to me.”

Genjo smirked. At least there were some people here who were decent enough not to go around spreading rumors. He straightened up and walked around the corner. He barely spared a glance for the pilot whose angry retort died in his throat at the sight of him, but he did give a small nod of acknowledgment to the other pilot.

He supposed it was natural that stories like that would crop up; while Koumyou was liked by most, if not all, his employees, Genjo himself was another matter altogether. From the moment he’d been a teenager and had started coming to the company building, people had started sucking up to him in an attempt to get into Koumyou’s good graces. And he’d made it pretty obvious from the beginning that he didn’t really give a fuck about rank and currying favors and who was in charge of what division.

He continued on his way to the mess hall and fell in line for the food. He was about to go over towards an empty table when he heard someone calling his name. Koumyou was sitting at the table reserved for the executives (when they deigned to eat with the rest of the company staff) and waving him over.

Koumyou patted the seat next to him. “Want to sit with us?” he asked, smiling.

The buzz of conversation in the canteen still continued around them, but Genjo thought he could feel some people glance his way. One of the board members concentrated on cutting his food into neat, perfect squares. He heard someone mutter, “Daddy’s boy,” at a nearby table. He ignored it, his grip on his tray of food tightening.

“No thanks,” he said. “I can find somewhere else to sit. And this is the executive’s table.” If Koumyou noticed the chiding tone in the last sentence, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gave Genjo’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“It’s okay, father. See you after work.”

Genjo didn’t mind eating alone; actually preferred the silence and being able to concentrate on his food instead of having to endure people trying to get him to talk with them. And since the universe hated him, of course a couple of pilots approached his table and asked if they could sit with him. “All the other tables are full,” one of them said sheepishly.

He grunted in reply and continued eating as they sat down. He barely suppressed a snort when he realized that they were the two pilots he’d overheard in the corridor. The pilot that had defended Genjo, Shuuei, alternated between eating and trying to start up a conversation.

It was a futile effort—Genjo only gave monosyllabic answers when he deigned to respond, and the other pilot was obviously disgruntled about at having to ask to share a table with him. Finally, he pushed his chair back, the legs screeching against the floor. “I’ve had it!” he snapped.

Shuuei frowned at him. “Xian—”

“He’s pissing me off!” Xian said. “Thinks he’s too good to even talk to us!”

Genjo chose to keep quiet as Xian ranted and as Shuuei looked even more and more mortified. People were starting to look at their table, and he could see people at the executives’ table glancing in their direction as well.

“You’re not even his real kid! You’re just some orphan he picked up off of the streets!”

Genjo froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Shuuei took one look at his face and clamped a hand over Xian’s mouth. “Xian,” he hissed, “ _shut up_.”

Before Genjo could lunge across the tabletop and throttle the bastard, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I think I’ve heard enough,” Koumyou said, his voice deceptively calm. “You’re a good pilot, Xian, but this outburst is just too much. Have you been overworked, lately? Do you need a vacation?”

The look on Xian’s face would’ve made Genjo laugh if he weren’t so angry. “Sir, I don’t—”

“Yes, I think a two-week vacation would be good.” Koumyou tilted his head. “Without pay, unfortunately. But I’m sure you understand.”

“Understood, sir.” Genjo watched as Xian slowly stood up and left the cafeteria. Shuuei followed him, bowing towards Koumyou before he did.

Genjo was sure that this would come back and bite him in the ass in the long run. There’d be new whispers about how Koumyou bailed him out and took his side. He felt Koumyou give his shoulder another squeeze. Well, life was shitty in general. It wouldn’t make much of a difference, either way.

* * *

The explosion was loud enough to wake up majority of the people in the dorms. Those who managed to sleep through it were woken up by the sound of sirens and alarms.

Homura immediately sat up in bed, eyes narrowed. He opened the curtains at the nearest window and watched as soldiers on foot and in jeeps hurried around outside. In the distance, there was a bright orange glow.

“What’s going on?” He wasn’t really surprised to see Sanzo awake and standing.

“Looks like there’s a fire over by the hangar, and I think I heard an explosion.”

Sanzo scowled. Homura felt like doing the same. The hangar was where all the suits were kept. He was worried about Rinrei, but another glance outside the window confirmed that there were soldiers taking up positions outside each dorm. They probably had orders to keep everyone inside until things could be sorted out.

“Obviously, someone’s going around and sabotaging the contest.”

Homura turned to look at Sanzo. He was sitting on the side of his bed, hands clenching and unclenching as if he were itching to hold something. “Obviously,” he agreed. It had been something on his mind since the injured pilot, and ever since then, he’d been twitchier whenever he wasn’t with Shien or Zenon.

Sanzo hissed. “Fuck. I wish I had my gun with me.” Homura snorted. Sanzo glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Why am I not surprised that you own a gun?” Homura sat down on his own bed, which was pushed up against the wall opposite Sanzo’s. “I suppose that’s why your performance this afternoon was so good.”

“I’m good with weapons,” Sanzo said levelly. There was a pause before he added, “Your suit’s weapons array wasn’t as impressive as I thought it would be.” The usual barbs in their conversation were absent; it was more of a statement of fact. Homura decided not to bait Sanzo. Besides, it seemed like they were going to be stuck indoors for a while, and he wasn’t really sleepy anymore.

“Shadow was designed for close quarters combat.”

“Obviously.” Sanzo’s tone echoed Homura’s earlier statement.

“Mecha combat has usually been about distance fighting, simply because the technology that would be useful for up close fighting has never existed before.” Homura shrugged. “We offer alternatives.”

Sanzo crossed his arms and moved so that he was leaning against his headboard. “I understand your point of view, but I still think that it’s too specialized.” Homura raised an eyebrow expectantly and Sanzo frowned, but clarified, “It’s ineffective. A pilot should be able to pilot any suit with relative ease. If I jumped into a random mecha in the hangar right now, I would be able to get it going in less than five minutes. The basic controls and interface remain the same. Shadow suits can only be piloted by Shadow pilots. Other pilots only become combat proficient once they’ve signed military contracts and undergo training. It would be a waste of time to train if you’re not going into military service.”

“I would think that the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. Shadow suits are fast enough that you can get within striking range of an enemy before they can react.”

“That must be some shitty pilot if they can’t react fast enough to hit you.”

Homura smirked. “You might be trigger-happy enough to hit a target before it’s fully out in the open, but I’m sure you also know that within a certain distance, long-distance weapons become useless. Normal mechas can’t move fast enough to dodge once I’m in that zone.”

Homura was honestly enjoying the conversation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such an interesting one. Zenon and Shien shared his opinion when it came to Shadow, and most of the people he’d met who were against it were simply close-minded. Sanzo seemed to at least have thought things through before arriving to his conclusions.

“Maybe we can agree to disagree,” Homura said amicably. “We’re not in the same Class anyway, so there should be no problem with us both winning in our respective groups.”

It was Sanzo’s turn to snort. “The only people who say that are the people who’ve run out of arguments.” But he settled down to go to back to sleep and didn’t say anything else.

* * *

 _It’s too early in the morning for this shit_. Genjo glared at Nii, who was standing at the foot of his bed, and wished that he at least had had the chance to change out of the drawstring pants and the shirt he’d worn to bed. Across the room, Homura was watching everything with a carefully blank expression.

“Tsk, tsk, Genjo-chan,” Nii said. He shook his head in an exaggeratedly disappointed fashion. “I never would have expected you to stoop this low. What would your father say?”

Genjo scowled. “Depends on what bullshit you’re going to tell him.”

Nii blinked slowly. “Why, the truth of course! I know that you don’t like people that much, but I never would have guessed that you would actually go around and sabotage other pilots like that. Koumyou definitely raised you better than that.”

Genjo stood up immediately, his hands balling into fists at his side. “That’s bullshit. I was here last night when that fire happened. And I was with everyone else that first time when a pilot was attacked.”

Nii waved his hand dismissively. “You were with everyone else when we _announced_ that we’d found that poor pilot. And of course you were here last night, but that doesn’t really stop your accomplice from doing his share of the work, does it?” He glanced at the soldiers who were standing by the door and nodded his head in Genjo’s direction. “I think we should go now, yes?”

In a fair fight, Genjo was pretty sure he could handle maybe two of the soldiers that were marching towards him; mecha pilots had to go through rigorous training after all, and were considered soldiers as well whenever they served in the army. But this was definitely not a fair fight, and there were five soldiers in the room, not counting Nii.

He let them handcuff his hands behind his back, barely stopping himself from kicking Nii in the shin when he gave Genjo a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Remember; you’re innocent until proven guilty.” The smile he gave Genjo wasn’t comforting at all. “Though there’s a lot of evidence pointing your way.”

* * *

“Excuse me, are you Sanzo’s team?”

Goku looked up from where he was sitting on Jeep’s foot. A serious-looking pilot stood in front of him. “Yeah. Aren’t you the Shadow guy?” Gojyo and Hakkai stopped adjusting Jeep’s systems and moved closer.

The corner of the pilot’s mouth quirked up, like he wanted to smile but stopped himself. “Yes. Homura Toushin, from Dragon Enterprises. I’m in the same dorm as Sanzo.” Toushin paused, his expression turning pensive. “Sanzo was taken into custody this morning. Dr. Nii thinks that he may be behind the sabotage going on.”

“That’s impossible,” Hakkai immediately said.

“He’s an asshole,” Gojyo added, “but he’s not _that_ much of an asshole.”

“Well, Dr. Nii thinks he is.” Toushin sighed. “I need to get back to my suit and get ready. I just thought that you guys should know.” With that, he jogged back to his mecha, an impressive dark blue Class 5.

Gojyo scratched at the back of his head. “Well, what do we do now? His highness is in trouble.”

Goku stood up and grinned. “Easy! We go find him and bust him out.”

* * *

Homura was just getting over the usual dizziness that came over him whenever he started up Rinrei’s system, when the sound of the alarms filled the cockpit. Immediately, his vision snapped back to what his own eyes could see. The normally soft blue lighting inside the cockpit was red. “Overall system malfunction,” Rinrei’s simulated voice said. “Please exit the suit.”

Shien’s voice came over the earbud that Homura was wearing, worry straining it. “Homura, can you hear me?”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Dr. Nii. He and his men seem to have set off some sort of EMP machine. All the suits are disabled.” Homura could vaguely hear shouts of alarm as a background noise to Shien’s voice. “You need to get out of there right now.”

“This isn’t looking good,” Zenon cut in. “I don’t think these soldiers are really soldiers.”

Homura made a decision. He closed his eyes and reached for the interface within his mind again. He was still inside the cockpit and the scanners were keyed to detect any active brainwaves. He just needed the tiniest stable connection …

“What are you doing?” Shien snapped. “Get out of there _now_.”

Homura ignored him and kept trying to interface completely. Given how fast he could move whenever he piloted Rinrei, he could get Shien and Zenon to safety before escape became too difficult.

“Your neural readings aren’t looking that good right now.” Zenon said. “If you keep this up—”

Done. When Homura opened his eyes, he saw things from Rinrei’s point of view again. From his vantage point, he could see the pilots and their teams surrounded by a large ring of soldiers. Dr. Nii stood on the flatbed of a military pick-up truck, hands inside his coat pockets.

“I’m impressed,” he called out. His lapel mic made sure everyone could hear him clearly. “Dragon Enterprises seems to be the only mecha that’s still functional. Guess you’re the undisputed winner across all Classes.” Dr. Nii gave a complicated-looking device beside him a fond pat. “Modified this EMP blaster to target mecha energy signatures only. Took a while, but the results are worth it.”

Homura tried to move towards Dr. Nii, but all he could manage was a slight twitch of Rinrei’s foot. His head pounded with the effort it took just for that small movement. He began to sweat, both from exertion and the lack of the usual temperature control inside the cockpit. He ignored the continuous warning flashes and held on tightly to the connection with the interface. Slowly, he managed to take a jerky step forward.

“I’ve read your file, Toushin,” Dr. Nii sing-songed. “I know that if you keep forcing yourself to control that damaged suit, you’re going to burn out. You should quit while you still have hope of regaining higher motor functions.”

“Homura—”

“Be quiet, Shien,” Homura grunted. “I know I can do this.” He couldn’t run with Shien and Zenon in his condition, but if he could just create a big enough distraction, they could escape. The edges of his vision were beginning to darken and it was getting harder to breathe.

“This is actually kind of sad.” Nii motioned at one of the soldiers. “Aim for the suit’s knee. That should be easy enough to fix for Gyokumen’s people.”

“Homura, just stop!”

The soldier took aim with a rocket launcher, and fired.

Homura twisted out of the way, but his hold on Shadow wasn’t strong enough and he couldn’t maintain his balance. It felt like he was falling on slow motion, Rinrei’s arms jerking slightly in his attempts to windmill them to regain his footing. The impact of Rinrei’s head on the ground kicked Homura out of the system again, and into unconsciousness.

* * *

Genjo supposed he shouldn’t be surprised to find Xian waiting for him inside the cell that Nii’s goons had shoved him into. “I’m going to kill you,” he snarled.

Xian backed away, pressing himself against the wall. “If you hurt me—”

“I’m in enough trouble already because of your bullshit,” Genjo snapped. “Beating you up won’t make things worse. But it’ll make me feel better.”

A loud clang behind him made Genjo turn around. Goku grinned at him from the other side of the cell’s bars. “Found you!” The grin quickly turned into a frown. “What’s Xian doing here?”

“He’s the one that went around sabotaging the other pilots. Apparently, he decided to get me into trouble too when he got caught.”

Gojyo and Hakkai had appeared behind Goku while Genjo was talking. Hakkai’s lips were pressed together tightly, his mouth a thin line. “All of us could get into trouble; we’re all from the same company after all.”

“I dunno,” Gojyo said. “Beating up those guards to rescue his highness is probably going to get us jailed or something.”

Genjo turned back to face Xian, grabbing the front of his shirt. “Just give me a few minutes before you open that door.”

Xian threw his hands up in front of his face. “If you let me go, I’ll tell you what Nii’s up to!” he shouted desperately. He went on, not waiting for anyone’s response. “I heard him talking to someone. He’s planning to steal all the suits here and then sell them to a black market weapons dealer.”

Genjo shook Xian. “And why were you going around causing trouble?”

Some of the fear left Xian’s face and a hard glint appeared in his eyes. “I was going to blame you for everything and hoping they’d let you rot in prison. Unfortunately I was caught.”

The click of the cell door being unlocked was the only warning before Goku punched Xian hard enough to knock him out. He shoved the unconscious body into a corner and grinned at Genjo. “So if we stop whatever Nii’s doing, we can get _out_ of trouble!”

Genjo moved past Goku. He remembered passing an office earlier, when he was being led by one of the soldiers to the cell, and quickly walked towards it. He grabbed the phone off the desk and dialed.

“Office of Madame General.”

“I need to talk to her, this is urgent.” Genjo told the general what little they knew about Nii’s plot, Goku practically bouncing beside him. Hakkai and Gojyo kept a look out in case any of the soldiers woke up.

“Well, this is interesting. We’ll be there soon. Ten minutes, tops. Buy us some time, would you, darling?”

The general put down the phone before Genjo could say anything. He threw the receiver against the wall. “How the fuck does she expect us to hold Nii here?” He rubbed a hand across his face. “C’mon. Let’s just do this.”

They grabbed guns from the unconscious soldiers, and Genjo stole a uniform off of one of them. Gojyo and Goku fought over who got to use the machine gun they found inside another office. Genjo fixed the problem by claiming it, along with the two pistols he already had. They exited the building from a side door and ran back towards the contest area, staying in whatever shadows they could find. When they were just one building away from the contest area, Hakkai gestured for them to stop. “Wait,” he hissed. “Listen.”

The sound of Nii’s voice was a bit faint, but they could still make out the words. “Shit, he used an EMP,” Gojyo groaned.

Genjo grabbed Hakkai’s shoulder. “The new power cells increased output by forty percent, not just twenty.”

Hakkai blinked. “That might be enough to reboot the systems despite the damage from the EMP. It won’t take me long to get inside Jeep, and I can do the reboot from in there.”

“We need to get rid of some of those soldiers first.”

“Goku and I can shoot at the ones on the left side of the field,” Gojyo said. “The dorms are close enough and they can provide cover. Hopefully Nii’ll just keep sending soldiers over to investigate and we can pick ‘em off as they come.”

Genjo nodded grimly. “Let’s go.”

He and Hakkai circled around until they were nearer to where Jeep stood. Genjo tried the back door of the building whose shadow they were hiding in and found the door unlocked. He ran to the second floor, slipping the machine gun off its shoulder strap. He opened a window in a room that overlooked the contest area, braced himself against the window frame, and waited.

It didn’t take long before the sounds of multiple shots rang out in quick succession. Some of the prisoners screamed and immediately threw themselves on the ground. Nii looked around wildly. “Don’t just stand there!” he yelled. “Whoever it is, they’re probably hiding near the dorms. Go and check!”

A small group broke off from the circle and left. All the other soldiers had their eyes on the dorms, at the opposite side of the field from Jeep. Genjo immediately opened fire. Barely a second had passed before Hakkai left the safety of the buildings and started running towards Jeep, shooting as he went.

Chaos broke out; some of the prisoners leaped up and tackled surprised soldiers, and more shots rang out. Genjo managed to do a lot of damage to the soldiers’ vehicles with the machine gun before he ran out. As he ran back downstairs and out of the building, Gojyo and Goku came careening into the field in two carts, shooting and whooping.

By the time Genjo reached the field, Hakkai had managed to power Jeep up. “We need to get to Toushin!” he yelled.

Jeep’s hands grabbed him around his waist and pulled him close, arms wrapping around Genjo as the short-distance rockets in Jeep’s legs came to life. Genjo clung to Jeep as Hakkai flew it towards Toushin’s collapsed mecha. He could see Toushin’s team manually opening the cockpit and pulling him out.

“What happened to him?” Genjo snapped as soon as Jeep dropped him. Hakkai immediately took advantage of the cover that Toushin’s mecha provided and continued shooting at soldiers.

“He forced himself to interface with Shadow after the suit was damaged in Nii’s EMP blast,” the redhead said.

The guy with his hair in a bun was busy checking Homura’s vitals. He seemed to be breathing, but it was labored. He was pale and covered in sweat. “He needs medical attention,” the guy with the bun said grimly.

“You’ve got a field first aid kit, don’t you?” Genjo asked. “Use it!”

The guy opened his eyes to slits. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to provide first aid to his neural pathways?”

Genjo cursed. “Where is that old hag? It’s been more than ten minutes!”

As if on cue, the sound of helicopter blades growing closer filled the air. The rumble of an approaching tank made everyone pause. Genjo took great satisfaction in the expression on Nii’s face.

One of the helicopters’ speakers blared to life. “By the command of General Bosatsu, lay down your weapons!” The majority of Nii’s soldiers immediately complied, the rest following suit a lot slower. Nii looked mutinous but didn’t do anything.

The tank’s hatch opened, and General Bosatsu climbed out. “Sorry we’re late, Genjo-chan,” she called. “But I saw this adorable tank in the garage on our way out and decided that I just had to have it.”

Gojyo and Goku pulled up beside Jeep, their carts riddled with bullet holes. “Your aunt sure is weird,” Goku noted.

“Tell me about it,” Genjo grumbled.

* * *

Homura sat up in bed, pillows piled up behind him for support. Shien and Zenon had just left, promising to come back tomorrow afternoon. They’d argued a bit about what had happened last week. Shien was still upset that Homura hadn’t gotten out of Rinrei right away. Homura still thought that he couldn’t have just given up without a fight. Zenon hadn’t said much, but from the set of his mouth, he was on Shien’s side.

There was a knock on his door. Homura sighed; he didn’t really feel like having any more visitors for the day. “Come in,” he called half-heartedly.

He blinked as Sanzo walked into view, coming around the privacy curtain and sitting down on the chair beside his hospital bed. His expression was carefully blank as he looked at Homura.

“I wasn’t expecting that you’d come visit,” Homura said when it became obvious that Sanzo wouldn’t make the first move.

Sanzo shrugged. “My team thought it’d be good if I did.” There was a short pause before he continued. “I heard the news.”

It was Homura’s turn to shrug. He focused on the blanket across his lap. “It could have been worse.” He tried not to clench his fists. “I could have died.”

He risked looking up at Sanzo’s face then. He couldn’t exactly read the expression on it, but it made him want to reach out and touch him. He’d never done anything halfway, so Homura grabbed Sanzo’s wrist and pulled, catching Sanzo’s face between his hands and kissing him.

Sanzo growled against his mouth and Homura braced himself for a punch. Instead, Sanzo ripped his blanket away and shoved his hand underneath Homura’s hospital gown, grabbing Homura’s quickly-hardening dick. Homura tried to return the favor but found his wrists pinned above his head in Sanzo’s grip.

Normally, Homura would’ve had no problem breaking free and flipping them over, but he still wasn’t completely recovered and was a bit weaker than usual. His hips shot up, the tip of his dick brushing against the material of Sanzo’s shirt. Sanzo undid his own fly one-handed before pressing their erections together and taking them in his free hand. He bent his head and bit down on the side of Homura’s neck, making him cry out.

It wasn’t exactly what Homura had in mind when he’d pulled Sanzo in for a kiss, but if he’d learned anything in his time as a pilot it was that he needed to be flexible. He could work with this aggressive assault, and really, in his condition, he probably wouldn’t be up for taking the lead.

He threw back his head and moaned when Sanzo found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, thrusting up and rubbing against Sanzo’s hard body. He spread his legs and planted his feet against the bed for more leverage, moaning again when Sanzo’s fingers tightened around them just this side of painful.

In his condition, it didn’t take long for Homura to come. He would’ve been embarrassed, but Sanzo didn’t seem to mind. He just placed both hands on Homura’s hips to keep him pinned down and grinded against the mess on Homura’s stomach. He was quiet when he came, teeth gritted together, but his entire body shook when he did.

The room was silent, except for the sound of their labored breathing. Sanzo eventually rolled off of Homura and sat lay down beside him on the bed.

When he could finally manage to speak without panting, Homura turned his head to look at Sanzo. “If this is your way of comforting me because I can’t pilot Rinrei anymore, I can’t say that it’s entirely effective.”

Sanzo hit him with a pillow. “What I was trying to say before you molested me—”

“Can I just say, you were the one pinning me to the bed.”

Sanzo completely ignored him and went on “—is that my father bought your suit. He thinks he can modify it to be piloted in a more conventional way.” Sanzo took a deep breath, as if the next part pained him to say it. “You and your team are welcome to join Temple Technology any time.”

Homura smirked at him. “Where do I sign?”


End file.
